


Stolen Moments in the Grave

by ynyseira



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Episode: s06e07 Once More With Feeling, F/M, Feelings, Grave Sex, Lust, Music, Musical, Oral Sex, Smut, Spuffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 11:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16515428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ynyseira/pseuds/ynyseira
Summary: What I wish had happened at the end of Spike's song in "Once More With Feeling."





	Stolen Moments in the Grave

**Author's Note:**

> My first published fanfic! 
> 
> **I am only playing with the characters that Joss Whedon so graciously shared with the world. They are not mine.**

Spike was singing in that sultry, guttural tenor of his. Singing to her, for her. Though the lyrics were harsh and suggested that Buffy leave Spike alone, his ironically soulful eyes betrayed him. Buffy knew that Spike would never “rest in peace” until he got what he wanted. The thought incensed her. Or did it excite her? These days, one earthly emotion was the same as the next. It was confusing, and she longed for the blissful feeling of being in heaven, not having to think about or experience anything that wasn’t comfort and warmth.

Warmth…the feeling came back to her, just for a brief moment, and she closed her eyes and let herself remember.

“You know….you’ve got a willing slave,” Spike sang, and Buffy snapped back to the cold reality that was Spike’s crypt. She rolled her eyes at him as he knelt symbolically in front of her. He was mere inches from her, and once again it came back to her…rage? Lust? Whatever it was, his being so near her sparked a very strong emotion. Stronger than any emotion she felt around any of her friends, or Dawn, or even Giles. Stronger than the friendship or sisterly love that now seemed watered down since she returned from the grave. She disguised her feelings as disgust as she walked out the door of the crypt, Spike following.

And now they were walking through the graveyard, Spike still singing. Buffy barely paid attention to the words, although there was no mistaking the passion in his voice. Again she feigned disinterest. It wasn’t hard; the events of the last few months had been absorbing most of her thoughts lately. 

Suddenly Spike jumped onto a coffin mid-verse. People started to scatter and shriek. Buffy hadn’t even noticed that there was a funeral going on. God, he looks good up there, she thought automatically before the pallbearers tipped over the coffin and sent Spike tumbling on the ground. I want him…no. That’s sick, Buffy. She dismissed the idea, but not for long…Spike was acting crazy now, knocking over chairs and scaring people away with his vamp face. His outward emotion was enviable.

Spike grabbed her and they went reeling into the open grave. Buffy landed on top of him and he finished his song. She was about to dart away when she changed her mind; she clenched Spike’s shoulders and drew her towards him. Almost automatically, he smashed his lips up against hers and kissed her with a fury and obsession none of her lovers had ever shown her. It was the anger in his kiss that pushed her over the edge of reason. And Buffy began to realize…here was the answer. Here was the passion, the violent rage that filled the void in her life. Here was what she needed to feel truly alive again. How ironic that the answer was Spike.  


Losing all restraint now, she kissed Spike so hard she knocked his head into the hard dirt underneath him. She bit his lip and Spike drew away, looking surprised, then pleased, then angry.

“Buff…what are you playing at? Didn’t you hear what I was singing? I’m through with the torment, Slayer. I’m through with you.”

“That’s too bad,” said Buffy, suddenly bold. “Cause I’m just beginning with you.” Spike struggled to get up and she pushed him back down, straddling him. 

She unzipped his pants and gave him a pointed look. 

“What?” Spike said, unabashed. “I like to go commando. Most vampires do.”

“No others that I’ve seen,” replied Buffy before she could stop herself. Spike rolled his eyes.

“Well, except for Poncey McForehead.” Spike smirked, knowing Angel would hate the incorrect Scottish reference. 

“And you know this...how?” Buffy didn’t really want to know the answer to this question. Spike shrugged but continued to smirk.

Their banter came to a pause for a moment, giving Buffy time to consider what she was about to do. Or rather, who. Was this really happening? Was she about to jump Spike, of all people?

As if reading her thoughts, Spike reached up and almost tenderly brushed her hair back. “As much as I want this...don’t do something you’ll regret later. If you’re doing this, you have to really want it too.” What was he saying? The suppressed evil spark inside him, hell, the human inside him wanted to flip her over, pin her underneath him, and take her by force. 

His words made Buffy indignant. How dare he? Telling her what to do, when he knew what she’d been through, where she’d been. She deserved this. All of her relationships had been so meaningful that she could barely shoulder the pain when they’d ended. She was done with that. Things didn’t have to mean anything to her anymore. She wanted the raw, visceral sensation of touch, craved the earthly pleasures of the flesh. Spike was there, Spike was available, and the fact that he was a soulless demon, well, at least he had all the right parts.

Buffy began to grind herself on top of him. It wasn’t long until his body began to respond, and Spike groaned as Buffy continued to writhe against his erection.  


“I mean it Slayer, no more teasing. If I have to, I’ll…”

“Hurt me? Empty threat, Spike. We both know you can’t. So just shut up and fuck me.”

Buffy couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. Apparently, neither could Spike, because he stopped struggling for the moment, dumbfounded. But Buffy was too far in to quit now. She punctuated her command by pressing her mouth against Spike’s again. His lips were cold, almost to the point of making her shiver. But they were moist and supple and giving, a contrast to his sharp features. 

She continued to circle her hips on top of his very erect cock, until Spike couldn’t take it anymore, until he flipped her underneath him and held her wrists down with his hands, and she let him. They continued kissing, now all darting tongues and teeth grazing lips, and Spike pulled off her skirt with one hand, the other still pinning her wrist down firmly. As much as he wanted to plunge his cock into her, he had always been a gentleman of sorts, and as such it was always “ladies first.” He was pleasantly surprised to find that Buffy had also forgone underwear. He was going to tease her about it, but that would require not immediately lowering his mouth to her extremely inviting-looking pussy. He had to let go of her wrist to do this, and now it was Buffy who was in control again, grabbing his bleached locks with both hands and tilting his head to the angle that felt best. He was very responsive, and found the sweet spot of her clit quickly. His tongue gave way to his whole mouth, and then he was sucking it with fervor, occasionally pausing to nip at it with his blunt teeth. Oh, how his demon wished he could vamp out and sink his fangs into that swollen little nub. But it was better this way. The torture of silencing his evil nature was painfully erotic.

And Spike liked pain.

He demonstrated this by gasping pleasurably when Buffy yanked his hair, hard; he had apparently done something very right. He concentrated on that spot until Buffy’s hips arched up violently and she moaned loudly. She was wetter than ever now, and Spike lapped her up as if drinking from the bloody Fountain of Youth (not that he needed that, he thought to himself hazily).

Buffy rode her orgasm for as long as she could, then let her body relax, her hands stretching above her head, fingers grazing the dirt underneath her. She looked even more enticing this way; vulnerable, yet somehow still powerful, in complete control of the situation. So when Spike shed his pants and lowered his cock into her, it wasn’t because she had let her guard down; it was because she wanted him to.

Spike sighed, half with pleasure, half with relief. He had wanted Buffy for so long now, wanted to take her, possess her, fuck her. And here she was, beautiful and willing. Finally his, if only for these few stolen moments in the grave.

He was very close to being one of those wankers who came within seconds of being in a warm body, but he managed to fuck her nice and hard for a good five minutes before he spent. Buffy seemed to enjoy every minute, grabbing his ass and trying to get as much of him in her tight little cunt as possible. He finally lost it when Buffy said his name as he thrust his deepest. How many times had he played out this very scene in his head? Hundreds, and the fantasy couldn’t compare to the reality of exploding inside her. His whole body shuddered, from cock to chin.

“Buffy.” My Buffy, he thought. He collapsed onto her and whispered her name again in her ear. 

She could feel the cum dribbling out of her pussy and onto the hard earth underneath. Spike rolled over next to her and instinctively slid his arm around her, and to his surprise, she nestled into it. 

He didn’t dare to speak again for fear of scaring her off, but hummed to her softly, a lullaby that his mum used to sing to him.

Buffy thought of all the things she could say to Spike, the words that could convey her re-awakened emotions, now mainly satisfaction and contempt. Instead she opted for silence and drifted off into sleep, contented for now. She felt warm.


End file.
